A Storm of Dragons
by Arcane48
Summary: Civil War sheds blood across Skyrim like a flood, Dragons destroy anything in their sight and vampires return from the shadows. Ancient warriors step from the shadows of the past and the Dragonborn rises. Ember is the only daughter of Ulfric Stormclaok and like her father she was a large roll to play in the events of Skyrim's darkest time to ever be written within the Elder Scrolls
1. Ember Stormcloak

**This is my first story written and published on Fanfiction so could you all do me some kindness and give me positive feedback or something like that. I'd really love it if you guys reviewed or even PM me, but if you don't want to then I'm not forcing you to do so. I hope you all enjoy.**

* * *

**Ember Stormcloak**

**Chapter One**

The sun sat low on the horizon, giving the sky perfect shades of pink and orange. The dusk was beautiful and felt like a time where everything could be still and just embrace the beauty of the glowing sky. It was at times like this that the war seemed hopeless to those that fought it, but ever since death of a hundred Stormcloak men the Sons and Daughters of Skyrim have fought harder than ever before. The remembrance of the dead took an entire week to accomplish and the Jarl wasn't one of them. Ulfric escaped the destruction of Helgan with the help of the now famous Dragonborn. The Dragonborn wasn't famous back then, the Dragonborn was just an escaped prisoner of the Imperials. The Dragon Crisis had then been a terrible time of destruction and ruin. The Civil War has only just begun and the Stormcloaks intended to win it at any cost, Skyrim must be free from the Imperials control and Talos must be restored to the divines.

Ember opened her eyes to the harsh cold of Windhelm's climate, the only climate was snow and more snow. During the summer Windhelm got only a few rays of sunshine which couldn't even penetrate the falling snow. During the winter it was like hell had frozen over. Stormcloaks didn't mind the cold; they were Nords, the true sons and daughters of Skyrim. The cold didn't affect the Nords; the Nords seemed to embrace it more than the heat. But Ember wasn't a true blooded Nord; she was half Imperial and Nord. Her mother was a woman that once shared Ulfric's bedchamber but then when Ulfric was captured during the Great War and tortured by the Aldmeri the woman disappeared from Windhelm and returned as Ulfric returned but a baby was wrapped warmly in her arms. Ulfric loved the woman with all his heart and loved the baby with his all his life. The woman loved Ulfric but pressed the small child into the Nord's arms then left, her eyes bleeding tears that froze on her face as she walked down the Windhelm bridge. Ulfric was heartbroken and never spoke his wife's name. The Jarl of Windhelm named his child after the small embers she chased with her sky blue eyes, the adoring eyes that reminded the rugged Nord of his beautiful love. Ember was now near the age of womanhood, seventeen summers but in Windhelm it was more like seventeen endless winters. The day of her seventeenth summer was upon her, three days from now was when she would be a woman. She would be a woman of Windhelm, a daughter of Skyrim.

Ember pulled herself from the covers and shivered at the harsh cold but pulled her robe tight around her naked frame and crossed to the wardrobe. In a matter of seconds she was dressed in simple everyday clothes. She was dressed in tight leather breeches and a cotton shirt that was made especially for her with an extra layer for warmth and a leather hunting vest that showed her frame well. Weather worn boots were placed over her cold feet and she tied back her silky black hair. She stared in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. Her figure was womanly.

A few minutes later Ember was rushing down the stairs with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart. Ever since the incident at Helgan Ember was afraid to wake up at dawn and find her father missing like that morning. She opened the door that led into the great hall and her heart sunk. Ulfric wasn't seated at his throne or at the great table where breakfast waited. A large fire crackled silently in the corner, its warmth didn't even reach the dining table. Galmor stood by the throne with his arms crossed over his massive chest; silent words were spoken with a small man opposite the brute of a general. Galmor nodded and the small man moved off to the large golden doors that led out into the snow covered Windhelm. The general of the Stormcloak army and adviser to Jarl Ulfric turned to face Ember as she approached. Ever since Ember was a little girl she remembered Galmor being present. He was more of an uncle then a close friend; he was a man who every Stormcloak trusted with their lives and even personal secrets. The large war-axe sat silently across the giant Nord's back but a smile was now spread across his face.

"You look more like a woman with every passing day," Galmor commented as Ember stood a meter away from his huge form. He was dressed in furs and underneath the furs were armour, armour that was as black as night. A hood made out of a bears head shrouded his face in warmth unlike Ember who would let her black hair fall around her face once she reached the outside cold. A loving smile spread across her beautiful face and Galmor's face smiled even further.

"Thank you Galmor your too kind" Ember replied with a truthful tone that sat quietly within her voice. The giant Nord towered over Ember but she didn't care, he was a loving and kind soul when he needed to be.

"Well you already know that you're my favourite woman" Galmor said with a voice of amusement and his eyes showed the hidden kindness that not many people were able to see. Ember cocked her head backwards in a laugh and she heard the faint chuckle escape from Galmor.

"What about your wife" Ember asked with a smile still spread across her face. Galmor's smile spread wider.

"What about her. Last time I checked she was searching the wardrobe for elves" Galmor said and his amused face became serious in an instant. Ember's smile faded.

"Still bad news coming from the doctors" Ember asked and Galmor bowed his head.

"The doctors are saying she'd getting worse. The madness has now spread throughout her entire mind and shattered it into flacks of snow. It won't be long until something happens and she'll either injure herself or injure someone else" Galmor replied and Ember gave the general a look of sadness.

"What about the doctors and healers in Solitude" Ember suggested but Galmor shock his head.

"How can we get into Solitude? The Empire has the entire city on lockdown. No Nord Soldier is allowed to enter the city at all. Even nobles are checked before they enter the capital city, the Imperials aren't taking any chances after Ulfric's conquest over the High King" Galmor said. Galmor knew many of the Imperial defences, but that was only because of the spies that the Stormcloaks held in Solitude under the Imperials radar. In the Stormcloak army there were many individuals that went under the scenes.

"But you don't have to go with your wife. Send me or even Constance. She's the best sorceress in all of Windhelm and has charmed hundreds of men across Skyrim" Ember pleaded but Galmor shook his head.

"The Empire knows you, they've seen you and your features before and I'm not sending my wife with a bloody witch" Galmor replied to the plea with nothing but his Nord temper.

"Who are you calling a witch" a woman's voice said from behind the Galmor. The giant of a Nord sidestepped away from the voice so he could see who it belonged to. The woman was more beautiful than Ember could ever hope to be. She was dressed in a thin and elegant black dress that swayed when she moved and her blood red hair hung around her shoulders like fire. The woman's eyes were emerald green like the gems found in old mines and her skin was as pale as Ember's. Her smile was even more beautiful on black lips that made her seem like a woman of ancient sorcery. She was Constance, the most powerful sorceress to ever walk in Windhelm gates and possibly all of Skyrim.

"Constance I never heard you approach" Galmor said with a small tone of fear buried in his voice but it was soon shook from him like a shiver. Constance smiled at the Nords unsettlement but stared into Ember's eyes. The two women stared at each other until Constance turned her head and glared at Galmor.

"I am no witch and if you call me one I shall kill you before you blink. Just to clarify but a witch is a woman that only masters one type of school such as the fire spells in Destruction or something like that. Where I'm a sorceress, a woman who has mastered all of the schools and next time make sure the person your insulting isn't a sorceress with extreme power. Understand" Constance said with a cold tone that made Galmor nervous. The giant Nord nodded in agreement but Constance didn't care about the Nord anymore, she was looking at Ember. "Come child we have much to discuss" Constance said and began to walk towards the great doors. Ember hesitated but when Galmor nodded she followed the mysterious sorceress. Constance walked with such grace that Ember looked like a small child hopping around.

"So would you like to know where your father is" Constance finally said to break the awkward silence that followed them from the Palace of Kings. Ember looked back and saw the large palace loom over the buildings that sat lower for the citizens of Windhelm to reside. "are you going to answer my question or continue looking at the palace and wandering where he is" Constance said as she stopped all of a sudden making Ember run into her.

"Yes I'd like to know where my father has disappeared this time" Ember replied and Constance nodded in acceptance.

"Speak of this to no one understand" she said and Ember nodded "good. Now your father left for Riften in the dead of the night with a handful of guards. Jarl Laila requested Ulfric in person for a secret meeting, involving the Thieves Guild. From what I've heard your father will determine the fate of the entire guild in a few days. I'm heading to Riften as your father's Court Mage and assists him in the upcoming decision" Constance said and Ember nodded in understanding.

"Could I come with you? I've never been to Riften before and would love the chance" Ember asked with a plea and a smile spread across Constance's beautiful face. Her elegant dress spread across the ground as she touched Ember's cheek with her hand.

"Riften isn't in the greatest shape at the moment. Why would you want to come with me anyway" she asked in a polite tone and Ember knew she had to answer with the truth. She sighed and stared into the emerald eyes of the sorceress.

"The only capital cities I've been too are Solitude and Windhelm. Solitude was lovely but the way everyone was one edge spoiled the moment. Windhelm is always cold and forever covered in a sheet of snow. Galmor said that Riften is the total opposite. Riften is a city built on water, a city made out of wood instead of stone. And coming with you would give me an opportunity I've been afraid to ask" Ember replied and a small single tear slid from her eye, down her cheek like a slithering snake. Constance wiped the tear from Ember's face and let the smile fade.

"What are you afraid to ask dear" Constance asked, but Ember cast her gaze at the ground. She closed her eyes then opened them again and pushed her eyes to look at the sorceress.

"I'd like to learn magic from you" Ember said quickly, fearful that her father would hear her or Constance would say no. A small grin spread across Constance and she looked into Ember's eyes.

"Don't be afraid child, of course I'll teach you the magical arts but you must keep it a secret from these Nords until you've mastered what I can show you. I've never said no to you before, and I've seen the hints of magic within you" Constance said and hugged Ember who now shivered with the overcoming fear. "Magic is no sin Ember; it's a tool, a weapon to be used by those with arcane blood". Constance let Ember go and began to stalk back to the palace.

"Where are you going" Ember asked and Constance came to a halt, turning her head to face Ember.

"To get my things, we leave in an hour" Constance said stalking off once again with Ember running after her back to the towering Palace of Kings that loomed above them like a golden dragon. The sun lingered on the horizon, streaking the sky in brilliant colours. Ember couldn't believe her luck. Today she'd be making her way towards Riften, a city ruled by Jarl Laila Law-Giver, a woman who everyone respected and loved within the Stormcloak territory. Riften was a city mainly built upon the water. It was built with wooden constructions unlike Windhelm which was built from stone. The second thing that Ember longed for was the learning of the arcane arts. Ever since she was a child she marvelled at Constance's control over magic, the power to conjure fire from air, throw shards of ice and zap bolts of lightning from the fingertips. Constance was more than the average sorceress and even studied at the Collage of Winterhold once but she left when her powers became too much for even the Arch Mage to control. Constance then travelled Skyrim, learning necromancy and other arcane arts the Collage didn't teach and then she returned to Windhelm, her home during the Great War. Constance was a key part during the incredible war; she fought by the side of Ulfric Stormcloak and even the Emperor himself. But her greatest victory was beside 'The Bear', Ember's grandfather and the Jarl of Windhelm before Ulfric.

The Bear and Constance slaughtered hundreds of Aldmeri Dominion while defending the Imperial City but in the end the Bear fell and Constance was forced to flee or be killed. The sorceress killed thousands of more Aldmeri sorcerers and the Dominion was fearful of this sorceress, alongside the famous Ulfric Stormcloak who wielded the voice against his foes. Combined the power of Constance and Ulfric nearly sent the Dominion running from Cyrodiil but then the coward Emperor signed the treaty and Ulfric cursed the Empire's name, cursed the coward king for banning Talos from worship because the Dominion believed the Great Talos Stormcrown was a fake, a man who never became God. Ulfric withdrew the army of Windhelm from the Imperial Legion and waited within the walls of Windhelm. Constance followed the young Jarl and soon she helped the Jarl kill the High King.

Ember was alive when the High King fell a year ago but she never saw it, her father went alone with Constance. Galmor said the High King and Ulfric fought in the throne room, both fighting with honour but Ulfric proved victorious with his Voice. The High King was shouted to bits across the throne room of the Blue Palace. Ember loved the story that Galmor described, her father ducking and weaving away from the blade of the High King until he shouted his almighty voice and the battle was won. That was when the Civil War begun. Ulfric Stormcloak rallied hundreds of men and women under the name of Talos while those loyal to the corrupt Empire rallied under Elisif the Fair, the widow of the High King. The Empire dispatched some of their army to Skyrim and in the lead was General Tullius himself, a war-hero of the Great War like Ulfric and Constance.

Ember entered the Palace of Kings and sprinted for her room, passing a confused Galmor and a few stewards but she didn't care. She was finally leaving Windhelm since the war began and she was going to be a sorceress. Constance was nowhere to be found but Ember knew the sorceress was already in her room, packing or doing something else. Ember barged through her bedchamber door and found a man seated on her bed. The man was muscular and wore the armour of a Stormcloak. Golden hair fell around his face and scars littered his arms, but the most common feature of the Nord was the sky blue eyes similar to Ember's. She smiled and the Nord turned, a smile spread across his face.

"Ralof you're alive, I feared the worst when you didn't come home with Ulfric" Ember said, rushing to embrace the Nord. Ralof smiled and hugged her with delight. He had returned back to Windhelm only a few minutes ago and couldn't resist seeing his goddaughter. When Ember was given to Ulfric by her mother Ralof and Galmor had been named her godfathers and Constance her godmother but Ralof was always her favourite and closest friend. She'd learnt how to fight from Ralof, how to be a lady from Constance and the important rulership things from her father. Out of all three Ember loved fighting the most and had improved over the years.

"I'll never die on you Ember. Your my favourite goddaughter" he said with amusement but Ember knew he was being for real.

"I'm your only goddaughter" Ember replied with a smile.

"But still my favourite" Ralof said back being a smartass. The muscular Nord let go of Ember and she looked into his eyes.

"Guess where I'm going" she said and Ralof looked into her eyes.

"Let me see. You're going to Riften with Constance and on the way she's going to teach you magic" he said and Ember glared at him. Ralof laughed.

"Who told you" Ember said, no angry. Ralof stood up from the bed and smiled at the young woman.

"Constance told me and well now I'm coming along to Riften" he said and Ember calmed down but continued to glare at the Stormcloak captain.

"Why" was all she said and Ralof just looked at her confused.

"Why what" he asked.

"Why are you coming" Ember said and Ralof looked at her disappointed.

"First I must speak to your father urgently and second you girls will need a man around" he said and Ember understood, a smile shifting upon her face once again.

"That's all I wanted to know now get out I need to get dressed" she said pushing him out with Ralof laughing. When the Nord was out of the room Ember shut the door and slipped out of her clothes and dressed in noble robes. A dress that touched the ground, a circlet that showed her position as daughter of a Jarl and bracelets to make her look noble, upon her feet she placed comfortable sandals and smiled at her reflection. She looked like a princess from the tales of old. Ember smiled at her reflection in the mirror the grabbed her knapsack and stalked down the stairs hidden in gloom. The air was chilly like normal but it seemed different somehow, different in ways that Ember couldn't understand. Ember found Constance waiting at the end of the stairs, knapsack slung over shoulder and sword sheathed at waist. Constance smiled at Ember.

"You look like a princess. But when he come to the wildness you will have to change to hunting clothes" Constance said and Ember understood. She had to look like she was embracing on a royal journey but then change into appropriate clothes when in the wild so no one knows who she is and so she seems to be just a hunter. They exited the hallway to find Ralof but he was dressed in his usual Stormcloak robes, he was dressed in something different. He wore Nordic cleaves upon his thighs which had symbols carved into the metal during the forging, Nordic gauntlets which also had symbols carved into them, weather worn boots and a simple woollen shirt. A wooden hunting bow was slung over Ralof's shoulder with a quiver full of goose feathered arrows and his axe hung at his belt. Ralof looked more like a traveller than a soldier now, a traveller with a sorceress and a peasant girl are their identities on the road.

"The horses are ready to go" Ralof said as Constance and Ember came within ear shot. All three of them walked down the cold hall of the palace until they stopped before the doors. Ember shrugged off her bag and handed it to Ralof who slung it over his own shoulder and they continued on.

Windhelm was silent at this time of morning. The only things that moved was the smoke curling around as it bellowed from the fires from within, the snow continuously falling and guards changing shifts. The sight of a party of three was not a rare sight but a royal party of three was. Constance was her usual self, Ralof seemed calm and Ember was nervous. Her knees shook and her teeth chattered but Constance and Ralof misunderstood it for being cold. The Imperial sorceress smiled as they neared the gates leading from Windhelm, gates that opened partly for them to exit. Ralof nodded to a guard he knew and continued on, after the women he was going to protect. A small flack of delicate snow caught in Ember's black hair but she shrugged it off. The snow flack fell elegantly to the ground. The horsemaster stood by the stable door with an expression of anger; he was aroused at dawn which wasn't a great start to the day for a horsemaster. Ember thanked the horsemaster and mounted Shadowfire as Constance mounted her own horse and Ralof his.

The cobblestones slid from under the horses hooves as they begun the slow trot down the path. The sun was rising slowly, taking the flacks of colour along with it but Ember knew the streaks of light would return at dusk but the beautifulness of the sky was gone, leaving a grey clouded mass. Ralof's face was hidden by a hood that cast his face into shrouded shadow and the same was for Constance but Ember was still dressed in royal robes. The cold air slapped her skin like the flat of a blade, stinging with numbness. An hour later Windhelm was out of sight and Ember decided to change here before they continued on further. Constance rode ahead a to make sure no one was coming and Ralof road back to the switching of roads. Ember slipped from Shadowfire's back and ducked behind some bushes that would make cover. She pulled out the circlet and whipped her hair back and forth so it fell around her face like shadows. She slipped out of the dress and felt the true cold of the morning as she crouched naked behind the bush. In a matter of seconds she was dressed in leather leggings that were really comfortable, a cotton shirt with a hooded vest that went over the top, riding gloves and weather worn boots. She put her noble clothes back into her knapsack and smiled at how comfortable she now was.

Constance was waiting for her alongside Ralof and Ember knew that in a matter of hours they'd make a camp and her lessons of the arcane arts would begin. Ember mounted Shadowfire once again and the companions continued down the road, set at an even trot but Constance was always a few steps in the lead with Ralof taking the rear and Ember in the middle. The dawn had long disappeared and the run rose near vertically in the sky, mid-day was approaching. A river churned next to the companions for an hour as they trotted down the endless cobblestone roads of Eastmarch, snow fell as light as a feather unlike Windhelm where it fell like solid stone. Ember was glad for this, the cold and snow now seemed to be dull and unamusing where the environment around her was shifting through spring, a time of year that was uncommon to the princess of Windhelm. Shadows lingered across the path when Constance came to a halt, her mare as silent as the dead. Shadowfire responded to Ember's commands and came to a halt beside the sorceress and her mount but Ralof slid from the saddle; bow in hand with an arrow nocked upon the horsehair bowstring. His face was stern as was Constance but Ember didn't understand. All she knew was that they'd stopped all of a sudden and then Ralof was scouting around with his bow and arrows. Then it happened.

It was quicker than Ember could imagine. An arrow whistled through the air, spinning towards Ember by a blast of magic erupted from Constance's hand at the arrow fell to the ground as ash. Wind brushed against Ember's cheek but war cries we thrown into the wind as weapons of steel were drawn against leather scabbards. From the bushes men and women alike sprang, weapons in hand and cries ringing like thunder. Another arrow launched from a hidden bow but Constance flung herself from the saddle, eyes searching for the sign of an archer. The arrow passed by Ember harmlessly but Shadowfire reared up and she was thrown from the horses back. Pain erupted through Ember's spin as she hit the ground and her vision became hazed like her vision was clouded by water.

"Get out of here Ember, save yourself" Constance yelled from a short distance away. Ember scrambled to her feet as her vision began to clear. Her body trembled with pain as she rose to her feet. A tall man stood in front of her. He appeared to be a Nord with rotten blackish teeth, a beard covering his chin and a bald head. A sword was positioned at Ember's throat and the man's eyes blazed with bloodlust. From the corner of her eye she could see Constance throw blasts of Destruction magic at the men and women who surrounded her. Ralof was making his way through the ambushes with his axe, slicing through each one with ease but more came. From what Ember could see she calculated that there must've been at least twenty nine to forty in total and most of them littered the ground in pools of crimson blood. The man before Ember laughed at the worried face she donned. The man raised the sword above his head, ready for the kill but just as it reached the peak of its ascension and arrow slashed passed Ember and slammed into the man's throat with force.

Ember twirled around to see a figure crouched some distance away, bow in hand and drawing another arrow from its quiver. The bowstring was pulled back then released and the arrow launched through the air, slicing a path until it slammed into one of the ambushers. The bandits began to fall fast with the archer picking them off, Ralof swing his axe madly and Constance blasting magic of all kinds. In a few short minutes the battle was over, Ember was scared and the archer moved closer. Ralof sheathed his axe and began to pick his way through the bandits, searching for useful things. Constance came to Ember's side and looked into the young eyes of the girl.

"You were brave today Ember. An average man would've tried to be a hero or run but you were injured and yet stood your ground. Because of that I'm proud of you" Constance said and Ember began to calm, her fears were now laid to rest. The archer was no closer and Ember could make out some details. It was a she, a female around the age of early adulthood but not human. From her pointed ears and tattoos Ember guessed she was a Bosmer from the mythical Valenwood to the south of the continent. The elf was dressed in simple armour made of what seemed to be deer hind and wolf pelts. A hood was cast over her facial features so Ember couldn't tell much about her face but the elf's arms and legs were muscular. Not like Ralof's but strong enough to survive in wild terrain and fight off saber cats. This elf was a hunter, a warrior and a saviour. Constance turned to see the elven woman approach them. The woman's bow was slung over her shoulder and many arrows from her quiver were missing, used in the fight but Ember could make out the two bone handled blades sheathed upside down in leather scabbards across the elf's back.

"Thanks for your assistance back there" Constance said and the elf pushed back her hood to reveal a beautiful face. Most elves were beautiful but from the features Ember saw before her she realized the myths were true. The elf's skin was light brown like tree bark. The woman's eyes were almond shaped and her mouth set in a thin line.

"No problem but may I ask what is an elegant sorceress dressed in expensive silk, a young girl dressed like a huntress and a soldier dressed in armour doing travelling Eastmarch's roads with horses of noble birth" the elf asked and Ember was taken back with surprise but Constance replied with an expression of calmness.

"I'm a mage from Cyrodiil taking passage with a young huntress and her father who happens to be a free-lance within Skyrim. These two incredible people have let me tag along to Riften and may I ask who you are" Constance said using their cover story. The elf bowed her head in apology.

"My name is Lizra'dral of Valenwood. I'm travelling Skyrim in hope for work and adventure as most travellers are these days. And your names" Lizra'dral said, ending with a question.

"My name is Constance, high sorceress of the Arcane Guild. This young woman is Alyssa and her father is Ralof" Constance answered her name and Ralof's but giving Ember a fake name of Alyssa. Constance once said that her sister's name was Alyssa and she was also a sorceress from Cyrodiil. But during the signing of the White Gold Concordant Alyssa sided with the Empire and Constance abandoned her home for the truth of freedom with Ulfric Stormcloak and his loyal Sons of Skyrim. Alyssa was heartbroken and her sisters betrayal but fought for the Empire and happens to be here in Skyrim alongside General Tullius, fighting the war against the Stormcloaks.

"I should be collecting my arrows and heading off" Lizra'dral said and began to walk towards the littering corpses of the thugs.

"Lizra'dral why don't you join us on our way to Riften, I presume your heading that way" Constance asked the elf. The elf crouched to the ground with such grace she put all nobles to shame and pulled an arrow from a bloodied corpse.

"I'd love to join your company. Oh and call me Liz if you prefer" Liz answered with a beautiful smile. Ember was shocked, another member was going to join their company. Ember wasn't sure about the elf's company, her father had taught her that elves aren't to be trusted. But then the elves that Ralof said couldn't be trusted were the Thalmor and the allies of the Dominion. The sun had risen passed mid-day and Ember could see passed the snow into gushing waters and beautiful forests.

* * *

**Thanks to those that took the time to read this story that I've put a lot of time into creating. I've tried to capture the world of Skyrim correctly in within this chapter and I hope that I've succeeded. Thanks once again for reading and I hope that you'll be kind enough to review or PM me. **

**-Love you all - Enchantress**


	2. Lucan Silver

**At the moment I'm looking for a Beta so if anyone who would like to have that oppitunity please just PM me and we'll work something out. So please enjoy and review as always.**

* * *

**Lucan Silver**

**Chapter Two**

_The lovely morning sky was covered in ash, smoke and fire. Blazes of red flames spread across the town like flame in a forge. Darkened clouds of smoke drifted across the sky like a thunderstorm as the bellows of the dragon raged across the burning village of Helgan. Imperials scrambled for cover and burning flames shot from the mouth of the dragon and clashed upon anything in its path. The loss of life drowned in the hearts of men as they scrambled from cover to cover, trying to stay away from the dragons preying eyes. Lucan crouched low, his features covered in darkened ash and his eyes reading his surroundings. Ralof was gone, back in the safety of the tower. A tower that Lucan was pushed from by the dragon, the executions hardly made way before the creature of ancient legends crashed through the village with almighty roars of challenge. The inn collapsed upon itself and Lucan was forced into the open. _

_The dragon sored across the dull sky and aimed for where the Imperial Legions fought back with useless tactics. Arrows sliced through the sky, slashing towards the dragon bit were deflected by the thick scales of the dragon's hind. Balls of destruction magic shot from the hands of Battlemages to only be pushed aside by the flapping of the dragon's wings. Lucan tied to move but his hands were bound, bound by thick leather that he couldn't snap like one of them Stormcloak rebels. The dragon ducked and twirled, spinning towards the ground. It would've been amazing if the dragon wasn't trying to kill everyone then its wings outstretched and it was pushed upwards with a screaming woman clutched tight in its talons. _

_The woman screamed but the foot unwrapped around her and she fell, screaming her lungs out as the ground loomed up at her. Lucan rolled out of the way as the woman slammed into the ground where he was crouched a millisecond ago. Blood erupted from the dead woman, coating Lucan in warm, sticky blood. He looked upwards and saw the dragon rise to its peak then plummets back down, snatching up another person and dropping them from the sky. Another life is lost as it falls from the sky. A large courtyard lay beyond a burnt building where the Imperial Legion fought uselessly. And beyond that courtyard lay another where two large towers stood alone and untouched. Lucan ducked under a wall which had collapsed only a moment ago and sprinted towards the courtyard, fires burned around him and smoke clogged his lungs but he pushed onward. His limbs began to burn with pain as he rushed through the fallen buildings. Then he saw it, the head of the dragon loomed above him like a tower of its own. The blazing red eyes sent chills down his spine but the worst part were the two rows of jagged teeth the size of swords. The dragon's mouth opened and a column of fire erupted towards Lucan but just before it hit him he vaulted to the left behind a ruined wall which now burned. _

_The dragon sprang from the ground and continued raining hell upon the town but Lucan wasn't scared anymore. Those red eyes weren't going to do anything to him now. The shadow of the dragon slid across the ground like a slithering snake but Lucan pushed himself from the ground and ran down the length of a building. A door was sudden pushed outwards, nearly taking Lucan with it into the burning dragonfire. A man stood in the doorframe, a man who seemed to be of the mercenary type. The man was large, larger than any Lucan had ever seen with a scar that ran down the entire right side of his face and eyes that seemed to be death. The mercenary was dressed in simple breeches and carried a large war-axe with his left hand and a steel sword at his waist. A smile spread across the man's face, showing cracked yellowed teeth. Lucan smiled back and gestured his hands outwards, showing the binds that bound his hands together. The man drew the sword with the sound of steel upon leather and sliced straight through the bounds like a hot knife through cheese. Lucan flexed his fingers and nodded his thanks but the man didn't move, instead the man spun the sword around so the handle faced Lucan. _

"_Take the blade" the man said with a deep Hammerfell accent. Lucan took the blade in his hands and the smile faded from the man's face as he stepped into the open and whistled to the soring dragon. Lucan went to yell at the man but his voice clogged with his throat. The man took a step forward as the dragon plummeted toward him then the axe was thrown. It spun in the air and slammed into the dragons face, but all it did was give and angry glare. The dragon spun and passed the man but when it was gone there was no man, well only half a man. Lucan looked away and sprinted towards the courtyard with the sword in his right hand. The dragons shadow slid across the ground but Lucan didn't care, all his worries were on the courtyard where the two towers stood untouched. Then he saw it, an Imperial man leap off the top of a tower, sword in hand and yelling a war cry at the top of his lungs. The Imperial man misjudged the dragon as it slowed so the imperial had leaped in front of it and the dragon caught it in his jaws, spraying blood onto the ground from above. Lucan took his chance and bolted at full speed towards the yard, eyes focused on the first tower. The dragon loomed above him then he felt the fire._

Lucan sat upright all of a sudden, out of breath and struggling with the feelings of fear and pain. The room was dark and his bed warm. He took in ragged breathes of cool air and glanced into the corner where his armour lay upon a wooden chair. A small amount of light flooded form outside his room where a large dining room lay for any guest lucky enough to walk through the front door. The day of Helgan's destruction still haunted his dreams, turning them to devastating nightmares. The sound of laughter echoed around the walls of Lucan's room, making the mood become happier. He pulled himself out of bed and ran a hand through his smooth black hair, trying to keep the stress from his mind. A candle flickered from nearby allowing him to see within the gloom of his room. His armour sat silently in the corner.

After Lucan was dressed in his furs which covered his chest and genital area he pulled on his steel breastplate with Nordic symbols carved into the steel while it was forged within the heated flames. He pulled on his steel cleaves which covered his thighs and shins as he pulled on old leather boots and gauntlets which protected his forearms from attack when he fought. Last he pulled a leather hood over his head, a hood that was connected to the furs under his breastplate. Lucan opened the door and let the flickering light enter the room before he left, taking the stairs two at a time. Four men were camped around the burning fire, whispering among themselves. From where Lucan was he could see that three of them were male, with heavy war paint stretched across their faces and greatswords sheathed across their backs. The fourth was a female with two daggers hidden up the sleeves of her elegant dress. They were either bounty hunters or thieves. Lucan took his gaze from the four strangers and cross to where the bar lay. A middle aged woman stood behind the bar, cleaning a tankard from the previous night, a look of fear spread across her pretty face. Lucan stood before her with confused eyes than he realised what was happening.

Lucan turned and caught the first man's wrist. The man was wearing an eye patch over his left eye and a look of rage came from the second. Lucan pulled the man in and slammed his forehead into eye patches nose feeling the bone break. Eye patch stumbled but Lucan was focused on the next man with the greatsword drawn. He ducked under a wild swing and kicked out with his foot, contacting with the man's knee and hearing the crunch of bone. The second man fell but now the third one was up and moving with fists thrown without thinking. Lucan caught the first one and ducked under the second, sending two rapid punches of his own into the third man's stomach who gasped for air. Lucan sidestepped a sword swing and crushed his knee into eye patches genitals. Eye patch went down but now the third man was ready. Lucan ducked and slid under a punch and threw an uppercut into the man's, punching in-between the eyes and knocking the man unconscious. Lucan turned around and kicked the second in the face, hearing the crunch of the jaw breaking.

Now the woman was up, knives drawn and smiling like a serial killer.

"You're an incredible fighter Lucan Silver but how can you match me" she said and took a step forward. Lucan searched his surroundings and found a small kitchen knife on the bar. He grabbed the knife as the woman rushed forward, eyes focused on her kill. Lucan backed away at double swing for his throat and brought his own knife for the kill but the woman blocked with her knifes and kicked out her foot, contacting Lucan in the stomach. The Imperial fell to his knees but rolled out of the way as the woman brought her knives down at empty space. She looked at her target but found the knife sailing through the air, slashing like an arrow towards her. The knife spun at her face but she barely had time to duck. The knife just sliced her face as it passed overhead her duck, creating a gash from her cheek to eyebrow. She laughed and touched the crimson blood with a finger then put her finger into her mouth and sucked the blood away, cringing in pleasure. A smile broke across her face but Lucan rose and slammed his fist into her face, knocking her to the ground. Her laugh echoed through the silence but Lucan kicked the knives from her hands. She made an attempt to retrieve them but Lucan pulled her up by the collar of her dress and pushed her into the wall with force. She laughed harder with that and stared at Lucan's eyes with pleasure.

"I haven't had this much fun in a long time" she said in a whisper.

"Enough of your tricks. Tell me what you want" he yelled in her face but the smile never left her lips. Instead she grabbed his head and pulled him into a kiss, her lips wrapping around his own. His eyes seemed shocked but his mouth opened to let her tongue dart in. The taste of strawberries erupted in his mouth as her tongue wiggled around with interest. He closed his eyes but then felt something. He looked down and saw her lift herself up and push him off with her feet. He stumbled a few metres but before she could retrieve her knives he was on her again, pushing her against the wall. She laughed and when he grabbed her collar she slipped out of it and rolled towards the daggers. Lucan turned to face the woman and now found her partly naked. The only clothing she wore was a cloth that guarded the area between her thighs. Lucan stared at the sight of her beautiful body then she was gone, her voice lingering in the air.

"I'll always remember you Lucan Silver". Lucan looked around in surprise, but still saw the bodies of the three male attackers. He strolled to the bar and found the innkeeper with wide eyes, looking at him with interest.

"May I have my sword and bow" he said in a quiet voice. The woman moved from the bar and grabbed his weapons before placing them on the bench. The sword was sheathed in a crimson coloured leather scabbard and his bow was placed with a quiver of twenty four crow feathered arrows. He smiled and donned his weapons before walking out of the inn, shook covering his face.

"Now to Bleak Falls Barrow" he said eager to begin this quest into the tombs depths and find out all of the monstrous tales of the ancient crypts.

An hour later he was out of Whiterun and on the road to Riverwood, the small town that he visited after the destruction of Helgan. Riverwood was a small remote village on the border of Falkreath Hold and Whiterun Hold, so people debated at which it stood but the Jarl of Whiterun had ownership over the buildings. Howls echoed in the distance as a pack of wolf's hunted prey which brought a hunger to Lucan. He focused his eyes on his surroundings until he found it. A lone deer stood in a small clearing, grazing at the grass which a silent wolf crawled towards it. Lucan smiled and drew his bow, nocking an arrow upon the mammoth hairstring. The arrow fitted perfectly and within a second he had the string drawn back and released the arrow, striking the hunting wolf. It died with a moan and a second later the deer met the same fate. He rushed forward, curious of his kills but he forgot about the most serious thing when hunting, wolves travelled in packs. Too late to react he went to draw his sword but was knocked over by a vicious black coated wolf, its teeth millimetres away from Lucan's face. His arms struggled against the creature's weight and his face was sticky with saliva. He cursed and then pushed the wolf with all his strength, pushing it into the air as another wolf collided with it. Both wolves were pushed through the cold air and within that second of time Lucan drew his sword and stared at the predators.

"Come on" he yelled and the first wolf attacked. Lucan spun out of the way and slashed the sword, slicing through the wolf's neck, decapitating it. The second followed but found the same result, decapitation. Lucan smiled and waited for any more to come but none did so he picked up his bow and walked to the dead deer. It was an elegant creature of the wild, a creature made for hunting. Lucan smiled and drew a small knife then began to work upon the beast.

Within minutes the hind of the deer was wrapped in cloth within Lucan's knapsack and the meat was on the fire, sizzling with blood as it dripped from the venison. Lucan sat cross legged before the fire, eyes glancing into the flickering flames but his ears searched his surroundings, listening for predators. His bow lay next to him with an arrow set beside it, waiting for an attacker to come forth from the shadows. Night was falling fast, faster than usual as the clouds covered the sky in their dull embrace. Small drops of rain feel to the ground with eagerness but with his hood pulled over his head Lucan didn't feel a drop until it began to pour. The rain slapped against leather, fur and steel as it feel from the clouds above to only land on Lucan and the grass. Lucan felt different as the fire crackled when the rain touched its hot flames.

Lucan found Riverwood half a day's walk from the small campsite from where he ate the venison. The taste of the delicious meat still clung within his mouth as did the water that he recovered from a nearby river that followed the length of Lucan's journey. Riverwood seemed to have never changed since he left a few days ago. The town's folk ran their normal lives as if nothing had happened and the only difference was the guards that patrolled the area. Two archers were positioned at the bridge entering Riverwood. Water gurgled underneath as the river flowed across the rocks and riverbed but Lucan found the noise quiet calming.

"Halt there. State your name and intention for coming to Riverwood" the guard on the left spoke as Lucan neared the beginning of the bridge. He stopped suddenly and stared at the guards, wondering if they would dare attack him but instead he followed instructions.

"My name is Lucan Silver and I've come on an urgent mission from the Jarl himself" Lucan stated and the guards nodded.

"And what is this mission you speak of" the guard on the right asked.

"To enter Bleak Falls Barrow and retrieve the ancient Dragonstone buried within so that the Court Mage may examine it and hopefully recover knowledge at how to stop the dragons" Lucan said, moving across the bridge.

"There was only been one dragon attack and that was at Helgan" the guard said, trying to sound like a leader.

"And that single dragon destroyed an entire town that was armed with men of the Imperial Legion. You weren't there; you did not witness the fear that struck every person's hearts that day. Innocent men and woman died that day. They were slaughtered like animals in a field. Next time you mock this dragon attack I'll take your tongue from your throat and you will not like where I put it" Lucan warned, closer to the guard on the left. Hand on sword hilt and tone full of anger and rage. The guards moved to the side without another word and Lucan passed through, calming from the rage. Riverwood was busy as the town folk finished the chores for the afternoon sun as the chores were complete and they retired to the shade or their homes. In another hour or so the sun will set and the town would gather inside the Sleeping Giant Inn to dance, drink and eat before retiring to their homes for a night's sleep.

The inn was warm and cosy as Lucan entered, the fire blazing with flickering flames. Delphine swept with a broom across the floor, swiping the dirt of the days workmen before the sun set. When she heard the door shut she glanced up and saw Lucan entering with smiles. She rested the broom against a wall and strolled towards him with a womanly walk of gracefulness that Lucan admired from the strong woman. Her face was covered in a layer of dirt and sweet but Lucan didn't care. They embraced in a hug for a long minute or two before Lucan let the Breton woman go.

"How was Whiterun? Did you enjoy it like most of the travellers" Delphine asked with curiosity.

"Whiterun was ok and yes it's a wonderful place to live or even visit" Lucan replied as he sat his bag down on a chair.

"I didn't think that you'd return" Delphine admitted and Lucan smiled.

"Either did I but the Jarl has requested that I retrieve something from the Barrow and well I decided to do as the Jarl wishes" Lucan said and Delphine smiled but the laugh of a child interrupted them. "On a happier note do you have a spare room" Lucan asked, picking up his bag from the chair.

"Always a spare for you, the one to the left" Delphine said, striding back to the broom and continued sweeping, humming a silent tune to herself. Lucan found the room identical to the room beside him, the same sized bed, same wardrobe against the wall and bedside table resting with a bowl of fruit. He set the bag on the ground and collapsed on the bed, letting the world begin to fade as he began to drift into unconscious.

_Fires burned as the dragon tore through the sky like a thunderstorm. Its bellows shook the ground and its mighty winds sounded like a hurricane. Lucan shivered in fear; it was happening all over again, the destruction and death was too much for Lucan to handle so he just lay there. Fear was a sword stabbing into his heart. _

"…Dragonstone will be recovered by the Imperial and then well have more information on these dragons" a male voice said in the darkness. Lucan opened his eyes and found his room dark with gloom as a small candle flickered beside him on the bedside table. He pushed himself from the bed as silently as possible and crept to the door, his bare feet hardly made a sound upon the wooden floorboards.

"Yes but can we trust the mage in Whiterun. If he knows who we were the Thalmor could be upon us in days" another male voice said in the darkness but Lucan held his ear to the door so that he could catch the rest of the conversation.

"We can trust the mage and Lucan but what worries me is this civil war and the dragons. The prophecies marked the return of the Dragonborn when Skyrim spills her own blood. The war between the Empire and the Stormcloaks are fought by mainly Nords. The blood of Skyrim flows through the Nords" Delphine's voice said and Lucan was suddenly confused at what was being said. _Is this some secret cult meeting _Lucan thought as he pressed his ear harder against the door, trying to catch every fragment of every word being said.

"The civil war is killing hundreds of warriors that could be helping us against the returning of these dragons but what I don't understand is this Dragonborn nonsense. The line of the Dragonborn has been deceased for two hundred years, ever since Martian Septim sacrificed himself during the Oblivion Crisis" the second male voice said but Lucan was more confused now, more than ever.

"So let me get all of this straight. The Dragons are returning which marks the End Days. Our only hope rides on the return of the Dragonborn which comes from a bloodline that's been dead for over two hundred years and this Imperial person we hardly know anything about. But a civil war rages across all of Skyrim between the Empire and Ulfric's rebels. So while we hunt down dragons and research for any valuable information we leave treasure hunting to an Imperial, wait for the Dragonborn's return and just sit and watch a war rage" the first male voice replied to all the previous comments.

"You nearly just repeated yourself twice just then. If I were you I'd just think before speaking Sven" the second male voice said to a man who Lucan now knew as Sven.

"Shut up Faendal" Sven replied to the second voice that was now known as Faendal.

"Both of you shut up. Tomorrow I want you two making sure Lucan arrives at the Barrow and succeeds without anyone knowing. I'm going to Whiterun because the mage has summoned me for a reading of an ancient manuscript. When Lucan returns to Whiterun I'll be there waiting with the mage. The mage will study the Dragonstone alongside a scholar under our employment and then well have whatever information is on that tablet. Do you both understand" Delphine said with a tone of authority.

"Yes Grandmaster" Sven and Faendal said at once. There was a moment of silence then doors were opened and shut. The two men now known as Sven and Faendal were gone and Delphine went to bed for the night. _That was too weird for my liking _Lucan though, slumping back into bed with a fogged mind.

The sun had risen when Lucan awoke, only to find Delphine fixing up his armour from where the wolf had scratched through this breastplate. The wound stun like a graze but he didn't care, for today he was going treasure hunting and he had guardian angels helping him towards the mountain where the ruins slept in constant wait. Lucan remembered all of the old tales that his father spoke of about the ancient Nordic tombs which were guarded by sleeping zombies who awoke when the presence of a person was near. Ever since then Lucan has wanted to find out the truth about these Nordic ruins and finally during his twentieth summer he made the journey to Skyrim but to find it in ruins. Delphine left without a word but Lucan knew she was leaving the Sleeping Giant Inn soon enough, as soon as he was gone.

Lucan didn't wait around. In a few minutes he was out of the Inn and on the path to the Barrow, an endless twisting path that climbed the mountain and led directly to the mountains door. The wind slapped against Lucan's face like a palm and the snow landed heavily on the ground as he stalked his way through the twists and turns of the slopping path. In minutes he was exhausted as he's ever felt, his limbs burned like they were on fire and his weapons felt heavy as he pushed himself up the mountain. The sun had now risen above the clouds but the sky remained pale grey as the clouds blocked the sun from the world beneath. The snow wasn't falling anymore but the winds were harsher as he climbed up the mountain, the rain was only a drizzle but it kept Lucan cold as he ascended. Then he heard it a shout out of terror. Lucan used all of his strength to push himself through the snow until he reached a bend. He stepped forward with his bow drawn and an arrow nocked but before he could release the shock he nearly feel to his knees. Before him was a gruesome seen that was near as gruesome as Helgan's final minutes. Blood and guts were spread all over the pathway, letting the snow drink in the red. Half the body of a man lay near Lucan with its eyes staring upwards. A woman who was torn to shreds lay not far from the half man.

Then he saw it. It was a mutated beast of some kind, a bear cross human or something like that. Three eyes were placed upon its forehead, and its fangs looked to be able to smash through bone. The hair was as thick as any armour and's its claws were as long as daggers. It was a Frost Troll, a native troll of Skyrim. _You must remember that Skyrim houses the greatest breed of troll. These trolls only have one weakness, a weakness that comes with the climate. Fire, if burn that bastards hair. With fire it will fall _Lucan remembered his father's words echoing through his mind like a distant voice that came to the present. Lucan crouched behind a boulder and clicked his fingers. A small blue spark appeared, a spark that burned hotter than any fire man can create. It flickered with the wind but never went out instead it seemed to control the wind around his hand. Lucan drew an arrow from his quiver where the arrowhead was covered in a cloth which would burn forever if it had to. The spark bit into the cloth as Lucan pushed the arrowhead into the flame, then the cloth caught fire and he was ready.

The small flickering flame vanished into the cold air but the arrow was lit and nocked. Lucan counted to three then leaped from the cover of the boulder and let the arrow loose. The arrow contacted with the troll and then it was burning. Inhuman howls of pain spread across the mountain top but Lucan was moving onward, toward the Barrow. The howls came to a finish with a last screech but Lucan was already gone. The Barrow was massive. It towered over Lucan like he was an ant. It was some kind of Nordic Fortress. "This must date back to the Dragon War, maybe it was where Nords hid themselves after and before the battles" Lucan said in a hushed voice as he saw a small figure racing down some steps. It was a man, dressed in furs so Lucan drew his sword and sprang out. Tackling the man to the ground, the sword slid between the man's rips and he stopped struggling as Lucan pushed himself from the corpse. The Imperial ducked behind a boulder as the faint figure of an arrow flew passed him with great speed. Lucan swore and sheathed the sword then drew his bow and an arrow. Another arrow slammed into the boulder but Lucan wasn't hesitating. He pushed himself from the ground and shot. The arrow whistled through the air and slammed into the archer but Lucan was already moving, his sword once again in hand. It was a few short seconds that closed the gap between the staggering archer and charging Lucan but his sword slashed through the archer's stomach, spilling guts and blood into the swirling snow underfoot. Lucan raced up the steps, his feet barely leaving a print in the snow as he climbed upwards. Another figure came into view but with a swirling action Lucan dodged whatever the person was holding and decapitated them at the same time.

Lucan stared up at the massive brass doors that towered above him like dragons themselves. Ancient carvings of Nordic religion were carved into the metal but the doors were covered in moss and snow. Lucan found it impressive but then he collapsed to his knees. Pain sprang through his body and the faint taste of strawberries swirled around his mouth. His eyes rolled back behind his eyelids and his mind slipped into his subconscious.

* * *

**So that is the 2nd chapter complete. Could you all please review. **


End file.
